Wind, Tree and the Maiden

The breeze lifts the leaves
Like the wind a maidens skirt,
Revealing bare, a limb
And a wooden shirt.
Should the wind grow stronger
The branch would streach and sigh,
Just like the maiden,
Should his hand slide up her thigh.
Indeed the wind did increase,
And tore from her, her dress,
His curling, searching fingers
Held her firm in his caress.
The tree began to dance
To the winds enchanting tune,
The maiden was pure naked now
As witnessed by the moon.
Entwined thus, limb for limb,
Tree and maiden head to head,
Till the fadeing wind soon left them
Asleep, in natures bed.